Misguided Few
Misguided Few
.png)
- Quest giver
- Fourchenault
- Location
- Garlemald (X:33.0, Y:25.7)
- Quest line
- Endwalker Role Quests
- Level
- 90
- Experience
0- Gil
1,260- Previous quest
Frozen Hope- Next quest
- Forlorn Glory
- Patch
- 6.1
“Though visibly relieved the Garleans are safe, the hardness in Fourchenault's eyes suggests your work is far from over.
— In-game description
Rewards
- Choose one of the following options:
Steps
- Speak with the intelligence officer.
- Speak with Kan-E-Senna.
- Speak with Fourchenault and have him accompany you.
- Survey the designated location while Fourchenault is accompanying you.
- Search for the despondent refugee.
- Aid the despondent refugee.
Walkthrough
- Accept the quest from Fourchenault
- Teleport to Camp Broken Glass and talk to the officer, out front of the war table building.
Journal
- Though visibly relieved the Garleans are safe, the hardness in Fourchenault's eyes suggests your work is far from over.
- Together with Fourchenault, you begin your search of Regio Urbanissima, but can find neither hide nor hair of them. He suggests searching elsewhere.
- ※You must be accompanied by Fourchenault to complete this task. Speak with him again should you become separated.
- You find the refugees at last, but they are being attacked by beasts descended from the tower. Weapon drawn, you plunge headlong into battle.
Dialogue
Acceptance
Fourchenault: With the Garleans' hearts at ease, the likelihood of others turning has greatly diminished. That said, it is no cause for us to grow complacent. Fourchenault: We must needs find a way to overcome the blasphemy's protective warding. Fourchenault: If I understand correctly, a blasphemy's behavior is oftentimes influenced by the memories and emotions of their originator. In which case, it would be prudent to learn more of the man who birthed this monstrosity. Fourchenault: How fortuitous, then, that a number of soldiers from the IIIrd Legion are in our custody. Fourchenault: For a mercy, their tempering was not so severe as to be beyond our ability to heal them. They are presently being treated at Camp Broken Glass. Fourchenault: Perhaps the camp's intelligence officer can tell us who among them knows aught of Nerva's whereabouts.
Speak with the officer
Intelligence Officer: I see... Perhaps it'd be best if you speak with Vergilia, legatus of the IIIrd Legion. She's still on the mend, but the chirurgeons aren't like to oppose a brief conversation. If you would wait here a moment.
Vergilia: Eorzea's champion, I presume. And one of her cohorts... Vergilia: What business have you with me? Fourchenault: Ilsabard is faced with imminent crisis, and we believe the knowledge you bear may be key in stopping it. Thus do we believe the blasphemy to be Nerva. His whereabouts in the wake of Garlemald's fall, or lack thereof, give credence to our theory. Vergilia: Lord Nerva...? Fourchenault: From what we have pieced together thus far, you were one of the last to see him alive. Please, will you not share with us what you know? Vergilia: ...Very well. Though I suspect what meager knowledge I possess shall avail you naught. I last spoke with Lord Nerva shortly after the warring with the Ist Legion began. Cloistered within the lower levels of the Senaculum Imperialis, he spent the better part of the day listening attentively to the radio. He seemed hopeful, or perhaps desperate, for news that the tide might turn in our favor. The next day, I left for the front line. It was there I heard a terrible noise, which I assume came from the Tower of Babil. Then darkness took me, and I remember naught after that. I was told the radios protected those close to them from the effects of the tower. In which case, Lord Nerva would have remained unaffected. But he has ever been devoted to Garlemald. “For glory, everlasting,” he would say. To watch the Empire he loved so dearly crumble... I can think of no one who would be more stricken by the sight. Fourchenault: It would seem we were right to assume what became of Nerva. Vergilia: And it does not surprise me the beast would choose to make its nest within the Tower of Babil. It stands atop the remains of the imperial palace, and the throne he revered so highly. But the Empire is no more, and Lord Nerva, apparently, is no longer the man he once was... He deserves to be laid to rest. Together with his dreams of glory. Fourchenault: We will fell the beast. You have my word. Vergilia: ... Lorens: Apologies for the interruption. Kan-E-Senna has arrived, and we're ready to depart. Kan-E-Senna: 'Tis good to see you, [Forename]. Master Fourchenault. I have spoken with Lorens of the ward protecting the blasphemy, and I am quite confident some manner of aether-based magic bars our path. Fourchenault: If I may be so bold, Elder Seedseer, we reached the same conclusion initially, but that simply is not possible. These creatures borne of the Final Days are devoid of aether. As such, they would be unable to produce such a barrier in a manner to which we are accustomed. Do you suppose it possible they manipulated dynamis to achieve a similar effect? Kan-E-Senna: I too thought to dismiss the notion of a barrier fueled by aether. That is, until I stepped foot here in Garlemald. Even now I can sense streams of aether flowing toward the tower. Its purpose was, after all, to harvest reserves of energy sufficient to reach the moon. Even if one was incapable of manipulating aether directly, it stands to reason control of the tower would alleviate such a need. 'Tis merely conjecture, of course. I cannot say for certain until I have examined the currents with mine own eyes. Might I ask you to accompany us? Vergilia: I would join you as well, if I may. My injuries would keep me from being of use in battle, but my knowledge of the land should serve just as well as my blade.
Kan-E-Senna: I would not be opposed to your company. But it is not my decision to make. Intelligence Officer: She may go, so long as she remains under watch by you and the others. Kan-E-Senna: Very good. Might I suggest we begin with Regio Urbanissima? I sensed the greatest confluence of aether in that vicinity.
Speak with Kan-E-Senna
Optional: Fordola: I heard word that Aldynn should be arriving before long. I can already picture him knocking his knees, muttering under his breath about the cold. Yugiri: I will never understand how anyone could grow accustomed to such cold climes. Lorens: I'm sure it's just my imagination, but I can't help but feel we're bein' watched again... Fourchenault: It would seem I underestimated the resourcefulness of our adversary. Vergilia: Part of me does not wish to believe this blasphemy is Lord Nerva. That I failed to protect him. And yet...
Kan-E-Senna: As I thought. The aether stream here flows toward the tower, as do all others in this region, no doubt. Kan-E-Senna: This convergence first began when the Telophoroi erected spires in all corners of Eorzea to fuel the Tower of Babil. Kan-E-Senna: But once destroyed, this divergence of aether should have ceased. Lorens: All right, whoever you are. If ye've business with us, quit yer skulkin' about in the shadows and speak yer piece. Was you there in the tower, wasn't it? (Yugiri and Fordola draw weapons in the direction of Lorens' gaze. Nero tol Scaeva walks out from behind a nearby wreck.) Nero tol Scaeva: My, my, you're sharper than you look. Yugiri: I recognize you. Nero, yes? Why are you following us? Nero tol Scaeva: Who said I'm following you. Being a native of Garlemald, does it not stand to reason I might be inclined to come and see what has become of my home? Yugiri: I know not what you're scheming, but we've no time to entertain your games. Perhaps Master Garlond would make better company for you. Nero tol Scaeva: Spare me. I am a man of great ambition and greater intellect, far beyond the scope of anything Garlond could hope to achieve. He still keeps his head in the clouds, while I would set my sights to the stars beyond. Lorens: Which is why you snuck into the tower. But like us, you couldn't get past the blasphemy to reach the transporter. Nero tol Scaeva: Yes, well... I was very much hoping you would dispense with that little obstacle. Nero tol Scaeva: And having caught wind of your plans, curiosity compelled me to see if you were truly up to the task. Kan-E-Senna: Do you have reason to believe we are not? Or, perhaps, does the great genius Nero mean to dispense with the blasphemy himself? Nero tol Scaeva: Far be it from me to steal your glory having come all this way. But, as I am feeling generous, I will tell you what I learned during my time in the Tower of Babil. I was able to access its systems, you see, and discovered one of those dreadful spires still appears to be active. Kan-E-Senna: Impossible. They all vanished when Anima was destroyed... Nero tol Scaeva: Yes, and I've heard of your escapades reclaiming the remains of the Emperor. But obviously you failed to reclaim his entire body. As it stands, a piece remains powering a tower at Fabrica. Vergilia: Ah, yes. The manufacturing district, just north of the erstwhile imperial palace. Nero tol Scaeva: A rather impressive feat, considering how these lands are so utterly devoid of aether. Barely enough to sustain life, let alone the spire. Kan-E-Senna: But if one were to use Varis's remains to forcibly create a confluence of sorts... Nero tol Scaeva: Precisely. And from what I gleaned of the tower's systems, his heart serves as its core. Nero tol Scaeva: Coursing not with blood but your precious aether, and now Nerva has amassed a surfeit to shore up his defenses. Nero tol Scaeva: How fortuitous he should find so perfect an impetus for his design, stolen from better minds than his own. How very like him... (Vergilla appears angered by this comment) Nero tol Scaeva: Oh, did I say that aloud? You'll forgive me if I fail to show concern for your ire. Kan-E-Senna: ...If what you say is true, these lands could never hope to recover from such a paucity of life energies... Kan-E-Senna: We must hurry and find Varis's heart, to both spare the land this wanton harvesting, and deny the blasphemy the source of its protection. Yugiri: Are we to presume you have any intention of aiding us? Nero tol Scaeva: As I said, I've no intention of stealing your glory. Though I fear victory may soon slip through your fingers if you do not act quickly. Nero tol Scaeva: The Tower of Babil was designed specifically for Anima to serve as its core. Nerva forcing himself upon the system has caused it to grow increasingly unstable. Nero tol Scaeva: If my calculations are correct─and they always are─it will not be long before his presence triggers a system meltdown. The resulting explosion will destroy whatever tenuous streams of aether breathe life into the lands of Garlemald. Nero tol Scaeva: But more importantly, we will lose our only means of reaching the moon, the heavens forever denied my genius. Kan-E-Senna: How so very unfortunate... In any event, 'twould seem time is of the essence. Fordola: That's all well and good, but even if we know which district to search, finding the heart'll be like looking for a needle in a bloody haystack. Vergilia: Actually... I may know where we can start. Vergilia: It's all rather hazy, but I still have vague recollections of my time serving Anima when I was enthralled. Vergilia: We were commanded to erect some manner of facility tucked away in a corner of Fabrica. Vergilia: I remember not what it was for, but it's as good a place as any to begin our search. Nero tol Scaeva: Certainly sounds promising. But surely this facility will be heavily guarded. Lorens: Then maybe it'd be for the best to divide our forces. If it's just the four of us, shouldn't prove too difficult to sneak inside and find the heart. Lorens: Meanwhile, our main force can stand ready to storm the Tower o' Babil when the barrier gives out.
Player response choices: 1. Leave it to us! 2. Be safe.
(Fourchenault receives a linkpearl call)
Fourchenault: This is Leveilleur. Fourchenault: What!? ...Very well. We shall return at once. Fourchenault: A number of Garleans have left camp for the Tower of Babil. Fourchenault: They have somehow misunderstood the threat of the tower, and convinced themselves that Nerva has taken refuge there. Still clinging to their ill-placed patriotism, no doubt. Fourchenault: They could not have gone far. If we act quickly, perhaps they can be found before they come to harm. Nero tol Scaeva: A wise man would not waste his time on a few wayward refugees. I thought you Sharlayan scholars knew better. Fourchenault: To ignore the plight of those one might conceivably save is not wisdom, sir. Fourchenault: If it is all the same to you, [Forename], I would join you. Kan-E-Senna: I will return to camp and begin preparations for our assault on the tower. Nero tol Scaeva: <sigh> And I suppose I should go as well.
Fourchenault as Follower
Fourchenault: Though I am unarmed, I promise not to be a burden. Fourchenault: That said, it would behoove us to avoid any undue confrontations if possible. Fourchenault: Now, then. Let us be off.
(Optional)Fourchenault: We've no time to lose. If they should reach the tower, there's no telling what may happen to them.
Point of Interest (23, 17)
Fourchenault: Hmmm. No trace of them here. Let us keep searching.
Point of Interest (22, 15)
???: Help! Someone, please! Fourchenault: Did you hear that? It came from over there!
After combat (20, 13)
(Optional) Fourchenault: They are understandably shaken, but otherwise appear to be unharmed.
Despondent Refugee: You... You're the ones who came to speak with us before. Despondent Refugee: We heard Lord Nerva had returned, and was assembling his forces in the tower, but... Despondent Refugee: No... Not Lord Nerva, too. Despondent Refugee: Then there really is nothing left for us. Fourchenault: I'll not deny your situation is dire, but you are not without a path forward. I believe you've the passion and conviction needed to rebuild Garlemald, if you so chose. Or, failing that, you could begin life anew in Sharlayan. Despondent Refugee: Rebuild Garlemald? No, there is no point in entertaining so lofty a dream. And we would sooner die than suffer life under the rule of another. Fourchenault: You would sooner seek death than sanctuary...? Your resolve is admirable, but sorely misplaced. Fourchenault: If you would not see Garlemald rise from the snow and ashes here in Ilsabard, might you consider venturing unto a new frontier? Despondent Refugee: A new frontier? And where, exactly, is this land ripe for exploration? Fourchenault: There. On the moon. Fourchenault: It is our goal to create a repository of man's knowledge there, free from the jurisdiction of any nation. Fourchenault: As I understand, the magitek and technological advancements of Garlemald were without peer. Your expertise would be indispensable in the endeavor. Should you be willing, of course. Despondent Refugee: You really expect us to go and live on the bloody moon? Is such a thing even possible? Nero tol Scaeva: Have you a better alternative? Nero tol Scaeva: Lest you forget, Garlemald did not rise to grandeur from complacency in the present or rumination in the past. We live for the future. It is in our blood. Nero tol Scaeva: Life is not without its hardships, of course. Even I have met with the occasional stumbling block. But even should I stumble, my eyes are forever fixed skyward, seeking ever greater heights. Nero tol Scaeva: The Empire may be lost, but I still possess a great deal of knowledge gained from it, and a desire to seek more. The very notion of exploring the moon is an unprecedented prospect, and that you would balk at the proposition boggles the mind. Nero tol Scaeva: Consider this─you have heard that beasts of the Final Days were born of those hapless souls that had given up on everything, yes? If that is indeed the case, can you tell me why you still stand before me? Nero tol Scaeva: Because deep down you believe your life is yet worth living. Deep down, you long to reach for the unreachable. Nero tol Scaeva: ...Or, perhaps you don't. If you should choose to lay down and die here in the snow, that's none of my concern. Despondent Refugee: Reach for the unreachable...? That sounds like something I would've said back at the academy. Despondent Refugee: All right, we'll go. I suppose it's better than dying here in the snow, as you so grimly put it. Fourchenault: Then we must first dispense with the blasphemy that commands the tower. Despondent Refugee: It's hard to believe Lord Nerva, of all people, could be turned into one of those monsters... Please, you must stop him. Put his soul to rest. Despondent Refugee: Thank you, and...sorry for causing all this trouble. Fourchenault: Thank you for the rousing call to action, but... I thought you had no interest in meddling in our affairs. Nero tol Scaeva: Lest you misunderstand, I abhor the idea of my countrymen blindly following nobles they know next to nothing about. Nero tol Scaeva: Besides, it would be a most piteous sight for not a single Garlean to be among those venturing to the moon. Nero tol Scaeva: Who else am I to prevail upon to learn of new findings up there.